


The Fox's Lair

by AirIam



Series: Erased Fate [1]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura, 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga)
Genre: Amnesia, Clow Cards Were Sealed For A Reason, Crossover, Dissociation, Family of Choice, Gen, Giyuu isn’t emotionally stunted but he’s still very useless at socializing, Gratuitous Fluff and Angst, Kinda AU, Like Mentor Like Mentees, Look at What They Have Done, Loss of Identity, Makomo is the only sane person among Urokodaki’s children I swear, No Beta We Die Like Kamados, Sabito is a Caring Moron™, Team as Family, Tomoyo is a Major Weirdo but Everyone Gets Used to It, Urokodaki can’t stop himself from adopting orphans on sight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirIam/pseuds/AirIam
Summary: Urokodaki Sakonji was a Demon Slayer.For some, Sakonji was nothing short of loyal to his duty. To others, he had never been one to sit still and indulge in idleness, which is why he went out of his way to kill demons when he wasn’t busy nurturing potential slayers.In a way, both assumptions were accurate. That’s why whenever Sakonji caught the scent of a demon, no matter the distance, he always rushed to the source.That night wasn’t any different.(Except, it was.).Alternatively:Urokodaki, ever the softie, picks another orphan on his way home. Only, this child is weirder than any other apprentice he ever had, and comes with a crazier deal than a newly-turned demon relative.
Relationships: Makomo & Sabito & Tomioka Giyuu, Makomo & Sabito (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Makomo & Tomioka Giyuu, Sabito & Tomioka Giyuu, Urokodaki Sakonji & Other(s)
Series: Erased Fate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063424
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	The Fox's Lair

Urokodaki Sakonji was a Demon Slayer.

Retired in name only, he never fully walked out of the path he had chosen many years ago– he was not in his prime anymore, but if a demon crossed paths with him, Sakonji would serve justice to the people it had eaten and terrorized with a deft swing of his blade.

In truth, his retirement was a display of sorts. He didn’t go out on missions anymore, but he cultivated the unwavering, the skilled and willing to walk down the same path as himself.

For some, Sakonji was nothing short of loyal to his duty. To others, he had never been one to sit still and indulge in idleness, which is why he went out of his way to kill demons when he wasn’t busy nurturing potential slayers.

In a way, both assumptions were accurate. That’s why whenever Sakonji caught the scent of a demon, no matter the distance, he always rushed to the source.

That night wasn’t any different.

_(Except, it was.)_

* * *

Urokodaki Sakonji was an old man. He had seen his fair share of gore and other unnerving scenarios.

“Thank you.” What he _hadn’t_ experienced, though, was meeting someone who could sneak up on him ever since he was promoted to Tsuchinoe. Let alone a little girl.

 _‘Makomo has very light steps, yet her scent always gives her away when sound does not’,_ he inevitably thought of his apprentice's disappointed face after such a bizarre event.

The girl before him had a disheveled appearance, her droopy eyes wide-opened, as if in a daze. Her body was here, but her mind was clearly somewhere faraway.

Normally, one would be quick to sympathize with a young victim, especially one that looked so out of it as this little one. _And yet…_

 _“Did you set the house **ablaze?** ”_ Sakonji wouldn’t lie, he was on the verge of having a stroke.

He understood, of course. Sometimes, necessity overruled any logic and speck of common sense, and this had been one of these situations: no one would’ve paid heed to her cries for help for, as cruel as it sounded, most people simply didn’t care as long as it didn’t concern them. Therefore, the best way to attract attention was turning it into _everyone’s_ problem, a category truly fitting for a wildfire.

Yet, for a child to come up with such an unorthodox method on the spot… it both impressed him, and reminded him yet again, that it was one twisted world they lived in.

Long lashes fluttered gingerly, like butterfly wings.

“Yes.” The young girl graced him with an answer; there was no hesitation, nor regret in her tone.

Sakonji had mixed feelings about the whole thing.

A part of him wanted to praise her for thinking quickly on her feet, as he might have arrived late without the rising cloud of smoke pointing the way. Another part of him wanted to scold her for her recklessness– what if no one had come to her aid? What if someone _did_ come, but turned out to be an unfortunate passerby, who didn’t stand a chance against demons? What if the fire had spread faster and she got no way out? Not only would the demon have eaten her, the forest would have burned down to ashes!

But alas: the lass’ plan had worked out, no third-parties had gotten involved and no life was lost.

“You did well.” He resorted to praise her for her hard work with a pat on the head, before getting up. After all, it was in his best interest to ensure the fire didn’t spread any further.

An hour and so later, no flame remained. Sakonji then followed back the trail of ashes left on his wake, back to the source of the wildfire; the girl stood in the same spot she was when he departed.

Normally, victims would have recovered from shock by now. They would be visibly upset, angry, scared or bawling their eyes out, or– _anything,_ really. Yet she continued to bear a blank expression.

It wasn’t from shock, then. Perhaps she was like this before the demon even showed up.

Some people, the Slayer knew, had long given up on life yet survived on basic instinct only. However, his instincts —and eyes, really— told him there was something off with this conjecture.

“Are you from the city?” Sakonji didn’t judge people based on appearances, but he took a reasonable guess provided the evidence in plain sight: the lass wore western clothes, and both her hair and skin were smooth-looking and clearly taken care of. That wasn’t the average look for a town girl.

No, in fact, it wasn’t the average look for a city girl, either.

She most likely came from a well-off family, but he would try not to assume– setting a house on fire certainly wouldn’t cross the mind of someone who had never lifted a finger in her whole life, after all. Unless they were utterly _insane._

“… I don’t know, sir.”

He didn’t ask for her parents or any of her relatives’ whereabouts, as it was evident there had been no one to take care of her. Or at least, the Slayer concluded she had to be alone. He hadn’t found any bodies, and the scene had been pretty clean– raging inferno aside.

Which only could mean that this youngling had been on her own and yet, somehow, managed to survive long enough until Sakonji arrived at the scene.

And while the cultivator was very much intrigued by _how_ did she pull it off, since there were no signs of fight on her body —that he could see, at least—, he was more interested in the context of what came before the attack.

Why had she been there, all by herself, inhabiting an abandoned house at the outskirts of some unnamed village? And what had happened to her, to be in such a state _before_ even crossing paths with a demon?

“Do you know how old you are?” The girl before Sakonji looked older than his pupil, but looks were deceiving. Makomo had a small build, looking roughly eight-years old when he had found her last spring. However, she was actually eleven-years old. This girl could be the same.

She shook her head once again.

“… Your name, then?” Being careful to not show emotion in his tone, the Slayer probed again.

“Tomoyo.” The answer came fast this time around. “… At least, I believe so.” Her hesitation made it all evident to Sakonji what the root of the problem seemed to be.

They spent the night at a nearby Wisteria House, only so Tomoyo could get a warm bath and a new set of clothes. She looked presentable enough, but it didn’t change the fact she was covered in dirt and soot– that was the magic of a pretty child, he guessed. People with natural good looks would stand out even when dressed in racks.

This, of course, raised another problem. If she had only average looks, Sakonji wouldn’t have been somewhat reluctant to part ways with little Tomoyo. But he knew what kind of fate awaited most pretty girls at orphanages these days. And for all he prided himself in not hesitating before demons, he couldn’t say the same when it came down to children in trouble.

Of course, he knew a couple of decent institutions, it wasn’t the first time he had to accommodate a newly-orphaned child that wasn’t keen on seeking vengeance against demonkind, after all. But greed changed people and made them do immoral things, who knew what kind of path they were currently walking since Sakonji’s last visit.

Knowing perfectly that he was going soft, but unwilling to turn a blind eye on the situation at hand and its what-ifs —perhaps the fact Tomoyo had no recollection of her entire life made him somewhat protective—, the cultivator sat down the girl once dinnertime was over. After a long chat, in which she was limited to absorb every word that came out from his mouth, Sakonji finally presented her with two choices: either being dropped off at an orphanage and starting anew, or following him back home.

Once he uttered these words, the Slayer finally saw a different emotion flicker on her face. It was only there for a split of a second, but he saw the sharpness evenly reflected in Tomoyo’s eyes.

“… I’ll adapt. Please take me in, Urokodaki-san.”

* * *

The girl did remain true to her word.

If Sakonji woke up at dusk, Tomoyo was up with at least two hours of anticipation. It wouldn’t be worrying, if only he could feel her leaving the futon and moving around the house. Sometimes, rather than a person, it felt as if she were just a plant.

“I didn’t pick you as my servant.” After two weeks of following the same pattern, he couldn’t help but grunt as the walking puzzle poured him a bowl of rice, regardless of his protests.

“You also didn’t pick me to be a slacker.”

At the other side of the table, Makomo openly snickered. The little traitor would regret it tomorrow during her training, but for now, he let her have it.

Sakonji thought trouble might arise between his student and the new addition to the household, but he should have known better. Makomo could have a sharp tongue at times, but, admittedly, that was a habit she had picked up from him. She was a thoughtful and level-headed child, never one to go around picking up fights, yet always one to pick up what was left unsaid.

“It must be hard… adjusting from being a well-off little miss to this kind of lifestyle overnight, I mean.” His student commented in passing the next day, during a rare break she had earned through sweat, hard work and a little bit of blood. “Compared to us, Tomoyo is quite weak; yet she never complains about the brushes now blemishing her skin, or the swellings of her hands and feet. Rather, I noticed she doesn’t go to sleep until all the chores are done.”

As Makomo’s monologue dragged on, Sakonji briefly wondered: _why do I only pick up strange girls recently?_ But he was by any means complaining, since it was rare for him to come across such young and understanding minds.

“Tomoyo doesn’t dwell on her lost memories, and she’s determined to help in the only way she knows.” His apprentice’s eyes were fixed on the route they took to reach this side of the mountain, but Makomo was clearly eying something faraway in the distance. “I can’t hate on someone who pushes forward no matter what.”

* * *

Urokodaki Sakonji was a Demon Slayer.

From his first Tsuguko to some of the orphan children he had picked off the streets many years prior, he had lost numerous disciples.

Urokodaki Sakonji was a Demon Slayer, _yet–_

Months later, seeing Makomo and Tomoyo getting along in a peaceful spring afternoon, wordlessly interacting yet oozing off familiarity and mutual understanding– just this once, he wanted to fulfil his role as a parent.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I just did that.
> 
> To be honest, this has been in my head since April, but I was on a loong Hiatus due to personal reasons and barely started to come back writting with short crackfics by the end of last year. I'm in a better place now, enough to try a more serious concept, but I'll take it easy and turn what was meant to be a whole fic into a series, so as to not put unnecessary pressure on myself.
> 
> This fic will have four to five chapters max, I'll leave it on four until further notice. Next part of the series will be longer, although I have no idea how many chapters that one will have- I'll cross that bridge when I get there.


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